


Product of Loyalty

by lilliphus (usobuki)



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dubious Consent, M/M, Masturbation, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 21:27:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3705291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usobuki/pseuds/lilliphus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Lieutenant is caught in a predicament as he finds himself lusting after his leader, and is discovered in a moment of intimacy…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is like three years old so please do forgive me if the plot seems blasé and overdone. I think it was technically a prompt that several writers picked up. But it was THE prompt that dragged me into the Lieumon submarine, and for that I'll always adore it.
> 
> Obligatory disclaimer: all characters belong to Bryke and Nickelodeon and I apologize for the blasphemous situations I'm about to place them in...

The Lieutenant had always worshipped Amon. In his mind, he’d ascended a mere political figurehead into a form of spirit-hood status. The man never faltered, never flustered, and never failed. He idolized his conviction. He idolized his method. But above all, he idolized his compassion. And the Lieutenant? The Lieutenant was just a man; a man in the shadow of a deity. And this man, like all other men, had needs. 

______________________

The day had not gone well. The Lieutenant was assigned what should have been a simple task: electrocute the box that Councilman Tarrlok had placed the Avatar in before opening it to prevent her from escaping. But somehow, she still managed to get away. 

The Lieutenant rarely failed his leader, but every failure was a pang of shame to the heart. Why the heart? He was never really sure. Most people would simply bite their lip and console their broken egos, but the Lieutenant was different. He truly cared what his leader thought of him. Perhaps Amon knew this. Why else would he keep him around, despite his shortcomings? 

In truth, he knew there was little he could have done differently to ensure a fortuitous outcome in a situation such as that, but the knowledge didn’t ease the pain. It was Amon’s words that stung the worst. 

“I thought I told you not to underestimate her,” Amon had said to him in a cold, demeaning tone. 

Normally when he fell in battle or failed a command, Amon said nothing, as though his silence was a signal of understanding, saying, “you did all you could,” or “we’ll have another chance”. 

______________________

As the sun set and the sky grew darker, he decided to turn in early. He was frustrated with himself and did not wish to speak with anyone for the rest of the evening. Taking the cue that his work was finished, he retired to his room, closing the door behind him.

It had become a ritual to him as of late- after a stressful day, he’d sneak away early and retire to his private chambers to indulge his more carnal cravings. The more time he spent with Amon, the more often he found he needed to delve into his lustful desires. The Lieutenant, of course, would never admit that it was anything other than the pressure and stress of being Amon’s second in command that made him feel this way. 

~He let out a long deep sigh, removing his boots, gloves, and armor until he was clad in nothing but his shirt and pants, then laid down, sprawling out on his bed. He relaxed, allowing his mind to wander, as well as his hand.

“Hmmm”, came a satisfied groan as his fingers lifted his shirt above his chest, then slid down his well-toned stomach and found their way under the waistline of his pants. 

His hand lingered for a moment, rubbing small circles on his lower abdomen before moving to undo the fastenings that restrained his quickly hardening member. He leaned forward slightly, resting his left hand on the bed as he reached further down, gripping himself in the palm of his right hand. He wasted little time, giving three long, hard strokes beneath the fabric of his pants before he came to full erection. 

“Ah….A-Amon”, he panted, gripping the sheets tightly.

Wait. What did he just say? 

He paused, suddenly uncomfortable. It was at this moment that he chose to look up, noticing for the first time that he was not alone.

Shit.

“Forgive me for intruding, Lieutenant. I did not want to disturb you. You simply seemed enraptured. So much so that you failed to notice me both entering and closing the door behind me,” Amon let out a light chuckle. 

“How-“

“How long have I been here? Long enough.” Amon made to step closer to the bed, but the Lieutenant recoiled, removing his hand from his pants and sitting up. But it was too little too late; his arousal was prominent. He could do little to hide it. 

“Sir-“, the Lieutenant tried to speak, but his voice caught in his throat.

“Relax,” came Amon’s reply. He strode forward and took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Actually, I came to apologize. I understand I’ve been…harder on you than usual, as of late. You must understand, I push you because I know you can handle it.”

(can’t this wait?)

His Lieutenant simply nodded. 

After an uncomfortable moment of silence, Amon stood, turning toward the door. Relieved, the Lieutenant lay back down and closed his eyes, exhaling sharply, but he did not hear the footsteps he had expected. He jolted upright as he felt a hand reach into his pants and grip his erection tightly. 

“What are you-,” but he was cut off as Amon’s free hand pushed his chest roughly until he fell back down against the bed. He opened his mouth to protest again but quickly lost his voice as Amon began stroking his length, slow and deliberately, turning slightly to sit back down, legs hung over the edge of the bed.

What the fuck was happening? 

The Lieutenant’s mind was racing. He was having a remarkably difficult time comprehending what was transpiring. Perhaps he was dreaming? He’d never dreamt about his leader in such a fashion before. He’d never even looked at Amon in a sexual manner. Hell, as far as he knew, he was attracted to women, not men. Though the longer he thought, the longer he realized while nothing about it made sense, nothing about it felt wrong either. 

His thoughts were interrupted as he felt Amon’s grip tighten further and his pace increase. Before long, he found himself thrusting upward to match the movements of the other man’s hand. He bit his lip to keep from moaning, gripping the sheets beneath his fingers. The younger man’s hands were rough and calloused, but his Lieutenant did not mind.

Despite his best efforts to keep silent, a small sigh escaped his lips. 

“Funny. I had you pegged as the vocal type.” The smirk behind Amon’s mask was evident in his voice. He stopped his ministrations, removing his hand altogether. 

The sudden loss of contact caused the Lieutenant’s arousal to twitch in dismay. He tensed beneath him. Did Amon just admit he’d thought of him in this manner before? He propped himself up on his elbows, but was once more met with a hand to the chest, pushing him backward. He had little time to contemplate the situation further as something warm and wet snaked its way from the base of his cock up, circling at the tip. 

“O…oh”, he moaned in reply, hips bucking upward. He leaned over to see Amon had slid his mask up. He could not see the younger man’s face as he was knelt forward, his hood shadowing his features, but his lips were soft as he wrapped them around the Lieutenant, taking him in to the hilt in one swift movement. 

“Uhn-,” the Lieutenant grunted, unintelligibly. “Fuck.”

He could feel Amon’s mouth grin around him as he bobbed his head up, then down, then up again, setting a quick but steady rhythm, each time feeling the head of his cock hit the back of Amon’s throat.

The Lieutenant had been with plenty of lovers in his life, but of all his lovers combined, he could not remember a more pleasurable sensation. Every nerve in his body was alight with passion. It was almost…unnatural. 

This man…this deity that the Lieutenant had come to worship. He allowed himself a moment to entertain the idea that perhaps Amon was a spirit after all, and not simply a man. His charismatic leader, his teacher, his simulacrum for equality…it only made perfect sense that he’d be this good in bed.

He lolled his head to the side in an attempt to laugh at his musing, but instead found himself letting out another deep moan as he noticed that Amon had taken himself into his hand and was stroking fervently. 

The image was too much and he found he could no longer hold back. Amon moaned around him. The reverberations of his throat sent the Lieutenant into a fit of ecstasy. “Amon, I,” came the strained half warning, half plea as the Lieutenant’s hips thrust upward one final time, expelling his seed down Amon’s throat. Wave after wave of pleasure overcame his every fiber, and for a moment he thought it might never stop.  
______________________

Seconds passed…or perhaps an eternity, before he finally came down from his post climax high. It took him a moment to register where exactly he was. The room was still dimly lit, and Amon was standing at the door, one hand on the open handle looking over him. His posture was lazy and relaxed.

“Sleep well, Lieutenant,” was the last thing he heard before the man exited, shutting the door behind him.

He felt a momentary pang of guilt for allowing himself to fall into such a state without paying heed to the other man, but it quickly subsided as he noticed a small stream of semen on the end of the bed, indicating that he had reached climax as well- as if it were any consolation. 

He sighed, tucking himself back into his pants and rolled to his side, closing his eyes.

“Goodnight, sir”


	2. At A Loss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please excuse any and all errors. I haven't read through this in three years.

Nearly a week had passed since their encounter and the Lieutenant had still not spoken with Amon. All in all, the event seemed to have left their professional relationship unaffected. There was little opportunity to see him anyway. Amon was busy making battle plans with the other officers. Though he was not a strategic man, the Lieutenant would have normally accompanied his leader during these meetings, but he had been assigned guard duty, of all things. 

Amon had insisted on keeping Councilman Tarrlok prisoner after their ordeal, and he was currently residing in the basement of the Equalist headquarters. The task of watching over and caring for the man was entrusted to the Lieutenant. He didn’t understand it. The man proved no threat, and he was useless as a hostage. Amon never even visited him. All the same, he did not question the orders he was given. Clearly the matter was of great importance to him; otherwise he would have assigned a lower ranked member to it. That, or he was being punished. 

At first, Tarrlok would not stop talking. His insults were venomous and his threats menacing, albeit amusing. Truly, the Lieutenant mused, what could he possibly do? Admittedly though, the impromptu attacks against Amon’s character had gotten under his skin. Tarrlok of all people had no right to call anyone a tyrant. As the week drew on however, the prisoner had grown quiet. Now when the Lieutenant visited him, he just seemed sad, like he was locked in a constant state of reflection. The pain was evident in the man’s eyes. He was breaking. Was this why Amon kept him?

_____________

It wasn’t unusual for the Lieutenant to have a drink every once in awhile, but since the other night he’d found the prospect of alcohol that much more alluring. There was a pit in his stomach that grew heavier by the day. He’d been hoping alcohol might help etherize the memory, but it only made him dwell on it. Even worse, it brought up feelings that he was unable to decipher- feelings of confusion, frustration, and unmistakable desire: a desire that he could not drown, even at the bottom of a bottle of whiskey. 

He all but inhaled his drink, slamming the glass on the table and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He rose to his feet, quickly realizing that he’d drank more than he intended as he struggled to find his balance. Tonight would be the night he confronted Amon. It was late, but he knew Amon would still be awake. The man rarely slept, often working late into the morning. 

He took a moment to gather his composure before making his way out of his room and down the cold concrete corridor of the bunker. His head was spinning, and he briefly wondered when the headquarters had been renovated- he didn’t remember the hallways being this long or having this many doors in it. All the same, he arrived at Amon’s quarters, though much more quickly than he’d have liked.

The Lieutenant inhaled deeply, paused, then rapped his knuckles across the door. “Sir,” he spoke unsteadily, “may I come in?”

A moment passed. He heard the rustling of papers from somewhere within the room, then a reply of “it’s open.”

The knot in his stomach tightened, but he turned the handle nonetheless. He stepped into the dimly lit room and turned to close the door. 

“Please lock it,” said the voice behind him.

He flipped the latch, locking the door then turned to face the other man.

Amon was leaning forward with his hands resting firmly on his desk. He was garbed in nothing but his mask and a thin pair of slacks. His hair was wet as though he’d just emerged from the shower and his well-defined chest and shoulders were glistening with small beads of water. There were various papers and maps strewn across the surface of his workspace.

The Lieutenant licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry. In all the years he'd spent at Amon's side, he had only ever seen him fully clothed, hood up. He wasn't entirely sure what he had expected to see underneath the uniform, but in this light he could not deny that the man was beautiful. His body was surprisingly youthful in appearance, and whatever scars he claimed plagued his face had clearly left the rest of him untouched. His gaze shifted downward, noticing the way the younger man's clothing clung tightly to his features.

Amon’s eyes narrowed behind his mask and he stood, straightening himself, “was there something you wanted to speak with me about Lieutenant, or did you come here simply to stand in my doorway and gawk?” There was blatant irritability in his voice.  
The Lieutenant snapped back to reality, lifting his head so quickly that he lost his balance. He stumbled, bracing himself against the door. “Sorry, sir, I just…”

Amon stiffened, eyeing his Lieutenant intently. “How much have you had to drink tonight?”

“I-not that much-I wanted to talk to you…about the other night, I’ve been meaning to talk to you for awhile but I haven’t seen you-” he wasn’t sure which he was struggling with more, his words or his balance. 

He stopped speaking abruptly as Amon held up a hand to silence him. The other man stepped to the side and gestured to the chair behind is desk. “Sit,” he commanded.

The Lieutenant nodded, pushing himself from the door and half-strode, half-fell haphazardly to the other side of the room, landing none-too-gracefully in the chair. Amon took a seat on the desk in front of his Lieutenant, pushing some papers to the side. “Go on,” he ordered.

Inhaling deeply, he continued, “Sir, the other night….why?” was about all he could manage. 

Amon’s eyes squinted, signaling a smile, “I believe in helping people in their time of need, Lieutenant.”

(Oh.)

The Lieutenant exhaled and slumped into the chair. He wasn’t sure what kind of answer he was hoping to hear, but somewhere deep down he knew it wasn’t that. Several moments passed in silence before it became clear to him that if there was to be any further interaction or words exchanged, the initiation fell to him. He was expecting Amon to say, ‘if that will be all’ and ask him to leave, but the man sat stoic, still and silent. 

He glanced forward and couldn’t help allowing his vision to wander. The way Amon was seated on the table gave the Lieutenant a spectacular view. His legs were parted in an almost seductive manner. He followed his line of sight from the man’s knee, up his inner thigh stopping to linger over his groin. The fabric of his pants contoured the lines of his muscles perfectly, leaving little to the imagination. 

(You’re going to regret this.)

The Lieutenant swallowed and leaned forward, reaching out to brush his fingers just above the man’s knee. His legs parted slightly in response. Taking it as a sign to continue, he rested his hand firmly, sliding upward to perch on his thigh. Amon let out a deep moan, leaning back on his hands. The Lieutenant smiled, moving his free hand down the younger man’s torso, stopping just above the waistline of his pants. Both men were becoming more visibly aroused by the minute. He paused, taking a moment to glance up. Amon was peering down at him curiously, eyes half lidded and glazed.

With no further hesitation, the Lieutenant leaned forward, placing a light kiss on the man’s abdomen, feeling his muscles tense beneath him. He inhaled deeply, reveling in the man’s scent before darting his tongue out to taste his skin. Amon threw his head back and shifted, spreading his legs further. Taking the cue, the Lieutenant undid the fastenings on Amon’s trousers, lifting him slightly to pull the waistline down past his hips before removing them completely. 

(What are you doing?)

He was at a loss. No, more like an impasse. Truthfully, he had lost count of the number of years he had been at Amon’s side. He joined the Equalists after the death of his family, mourning the loss of his wife and daughter. At first he was driven solely by an overwhelming malevolence. He wanted all benders to pay for the slights against him. He didn’t want equality; he wanted revenge. As the years drew on however, his views changed. Amon had shown him a type of tranquility he had never expected to find in his misery. Now, he wanted to protect, not to destroy. He was not sure how it happened or how long it had taken, but he was eternally grateful. Amon was a revolutionary. Just as he took away one’s ability to bend, he’d just as easily removed this hatred from the Lieutenant’s heart. And now….

~Was this the product of loyalty?

He sat upright, tossing the clothing to the side and smiled, drinking in the other man’s form. The sexual tension in the room was palpable. Both men were fully erect, despite the lack of physical contact. The Lieutenant could not recall having ever been more aroused in his life. 

Amon let out an animalistic growl and stepped forward off the desk. He pushed the Lieutenant backward in the chair forcibly, straddling him. “I want you to fuck me,” he breathed, wrapping his arms around the older man and burying his still masked face into his neck. 

“Are-,” (are you sure?) he began to ask, but thought better of it. If he were unsure, he wouldn’t have said it. The Lieutenant became acutely aware of how uncomfortable his clothing had grown as he undid the laces on his breeches, freeing himself. He wrapped his left arm around Amon’s waist. “Sir?” he questioned, taking the other man’s face into the palm of his hand, turning him so their eyes met. 

Amon let out a small grunt, quickly turning his face to break the eye contact. He leaned back and reached into one of the drawers of the desk behind him, extracting a small vial of oil. He uncorked it and poured some into his hand, then tossed it to the side allowing it to shatter on the floor. 

‘Impatient’, the Lieutenant mused to himself. He gasped, clenching his teeth and shut his eyes tightly as he allowed Amon to run his fingers along his length, coating him. He moved to grasp the other man’s hips, steadying himself to keep from thrusting up into his grip. He was momentarily grateful as Amon removed his hand, until he noticed him moving into position. He squeezed the man’s hips tighter, pushing his thumbs into his skin as Amon lowered himself. He pressed down, taking him in fully in one swift movement. “Uhn…oh, fuck,” the Lieutenant moaned, throwing his head back. He could barely contain himself. The man was so tight, so warm. He thrust upward wildly, once, twice, three times, until he was met with a pair of hands pressing against his shoulders in an attempt to still him. He complied, panting, and raised his head.

Amon pushed the heels of his palms into the Lieutenant’s shoulders and began rocking, slowly. His pace was torturous, yet tantalizing and his Lieutenant found himself lulled into a daze, never breaking eye contact. 

Amon’s eyes were dangerous. They shone a remarkably deep blue in the hue of the tenebrous chambers. They spoke a language all their own, shouting commands and begging for dominance all at once. It bewildered the Lieutenant to see his resplendent leader this way; the man was notorious for his indomitable reserve. To see him like this…in the throes of passion- he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. He settled for silence.  
His head fell back, mouth slightly agape as he lost all sense of self. He was still deeply intoxicated and his inebriation created a strong sense of surrealism. Nothing about this felt real, but he still maintained that it was real enough- the way Amon’s fingers pressed into his skin, the beads of sweat that trickled down his shoulders, pooling at the indent of his clavicles…the way his blood pulsed in his neck with every beat of his heart, perfectly in tune with the rise and fall of his hips. It was the most perfect sight he had ever witnessed.

The Lieutenant leaned forward, biting into the flesh of Amon’s neck as he shifted, thrusting deeper inside of him. Amon gasped, digging his fingers into his Lieutenant’s shoulders. He let out a small sigh as he came, covering both their stomachs in his seed. The Lieutenant followed seconds later, exhaling deeply.

_____

It was all over too soon. The Lieutenant hadn’t expected the events of tonight to unfold as they had, but he certainly wasn’t complaining.  
He paused at the door, turning to look back over his shoulder. Amon exchanged his glance, nodding, but saying nothing. 

What had he expected? A confession? A proclamation of love? He wasn’t sure. In retrospect, he realized it would have been uncharacteristic, but he allowed himself to hope all the same. The pit in his stomach had quelled with the simple thought that tonight would undoubtedly be the first of many. He smiled to himself as he exited the room.

_Was this the product of loyalty?_

**Author's Note:**

> (blood bending in the bedroom heavily implied aw yiss)


End file.
